We Have to Risk Everything
by Zoe Mae
Summary: My first fanfic! Scene from Nesting Dolls, missing scene with GrissomSara. My interpretation of how their romance started.
1. Why?

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters

FEEDBACK: This is my first piece, any and all feedback welcome!

SUMMARY: My interpretation of the scene in Nesting Dolls with Sara and Grissom. How GSR started.

AUTHORS' NOTES: References to Sex, Lies and Larvae, Lady Heather's Box, Play with Fire, Butterflied, Bloodlines, Nesting Dolls, Unbearable

**Chapter 1 – Why?**

Sara found herself feeling very much alone. It had been a day since she was suspended from the lab, and had yet to talk to anyone about it. Cases like this one had bothered her before, why was this one so different? And she had watched so many of her co-workers' emotions get the best of them when a case had gotten too personal, why was her reaction considered so intolerable? If a man had been abusing his wife, why should she protect him? His dead wife deserved justice. Hadn't Grissom always told her that as criminalists, they are the ones who speak for the victims, because the dead can't speak for themselves? That's exactly what she was trying to do. Give a voice to so many who go unheard.

Besides, if Catherine hadn't pushed the issue, she never would have said anything at all. She wouldn't have been put in a position where she felt threatened and lashed out. She fought fire with fire, and was now in danger of being silenced forever.

Maybe she was out of line with the suspect. Maybe her emotions did get the best of her. But what about the one who confronted her in the first place? The investigation a couple of years back in which Catherine herself completely lost control floated into her mind.

_You even think about my daughter again, I'll kill you. I will _kill_ you._

Sara had never heard Catherine talk to anyone that way, let alone in the interrogation room.

_I will hunt you down and put ... I will put you in the _ground

She had called Catherine's name, tried to talk her down from her verbal assault. She escorted her out, advised her to go home and be with her daughter. Sara had been more levelheaded then. Of course the rage made sense; Catherine was defending her daughter. And the threats Sara understood all too well; they were an integral part of her childhood. She had been able to keep it together once. When did the tables turn?

I tried to help you, Sara thought to herself, I understood. And this is how you thank me, by throwing me under the bus? At least I didn't threaten to kill anyone…

Just then a knock at the door brought her out of her reverie.

She glanced at her cell phone. No one had called her, and she wasn't expecting anyone. Sighing deeply, she mustered up the energy to answer it. Who she saw through the peephole brought a nervous smile to her face. She felt like a child whose hand had been caught in the cookie jar, a strange combination of shame and rebelliousness. Of all the ways she wanted to lure him to her home, insubordination was not at the top of the list. Ironically, the only person she needed was the last person she wanted to see.

As she opened the door, Grissom brought his gaze up from the floor, his blue eyes impassive. Sara masked her discomfort with a lighthearted smirk, hopefully coming across more nonchalant than she felt.

"Well, if you're here, it can't be good."

Grissom remained expressionless as he tried to read the woman in front of him. A thousand thoughts were running through his mind. A thousand possible explanations were flitting through his consciousness, trying to rationalize why Sara was suddenly unraveling. If a woman of her determination started careening out of control, no, he thought, it can't be good.

"Can I come in?"

This evoked another sigh as Sara wordlessly stepped aside to let her supervisor in to her living room. She was going to maintain the façade of strength he'd come to expect from her as long as he continued to maintain the professional, distant air she'd come to expect from him. From the moment she peered through the small looking glass, she felt the pressing need to defy him threatening to overtake her. If she was going to get in trouble for disobedience, she might as well show him just how disobedient she could be.

She waved her bottle of beer around, mocking the confident brashness of intoxication as she taunted, "Want to ask me if I'm drunk?"

Grissom glanced down at her hands, taking in the bottle she was clutching as he walked past her, an exasperated breath on his lips. "We both know that's not your problem." He walked to the middle of her softly lit apartment as Sara closed the door. She moved slowly towards him as he stopped to turn around to look at her, his expression still unreadable. "I spoke to Catherine."

Sara merely nodded, averting her eyes for a moment as the scene from earlier continued to flash in front of her.

_The only reason this is _your_ lab is because Grissom doesn't kiss ass._

"Ecklie," she said, matter-of-factly.

"He wants me to fire you," Grissom stated, his voice holding neither compassion nor admonishment. As her supervisor, he needed to reprimand her for her behavior; as her friend, he wanted dearly to help her. And this is what he constantly struggled with when it came to Sara Sidle. He constantly was trying to balance his professional needs with his emotional wants.

"I figured," she sighed. She wanted to delay the inevitable any way she could. The reasons behind her actions were not something she wanted to discuss with anyone, let alone Gil Grissom. She wasn't sure he could handle the past that she kept locked and guarded. She'd rather let him think she was volatile than let him know her weaknesses.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Sure," Grissom misled, "an explanation."

Sara sighed. Inwardly she knew better than to try to escape a conversation with a man of his persistence and curiosity. As a scientist he'd want a simple cause and effect explanation. What she had to offer was much more than that. So much more. "I ... lost my temper." She began to walk away from him and his questioning gaze.

"That seems to be happening quite a bit," Grissom asserted. "Do you know why?"

"What difference does it make? I'm still fired."

"It makes a difference to me." For the first time since the conversation started, Grissom's tone warmed. He knew that losing this job would destroy Sara; she lived and breathed her work. Her apathy sent up red flags that something deeper was going on, something to which these past few months had been slowly alerting him.

When Sara had stopped pacing, she ended up behind a chair at the opposite side of the room. The symbolism of using it to create distance was not lost on either of them. She began to tap the bottle on the cushion, trying to appear aloof in her thinking while trying to pick the words that would both explain and dodge the reason for her behavior.

"I have a problem with authority," she started, "I choose men who are emotionally unavailable. I'm self-destructive. All of the above."

Grissom considered her words carefully, noting the subtle dig of being "emotionally unavailable," before responding in his typical, yet sometimes confusing, way. "Have you ever gone a week without a rationalization?"

Sara inhaled deeply. Her mind was racing with ways in which she wanted to respond, but before she could say anything, Grissom was interpreting one of the many quotes he used in perplexing situations.

"It's from the "Big Chill"." Sara rolled her eyes and began making her way around to sit in the chair she was using as a shield as Grissom continued. "One of the characters explaining a basic fact of life -- that rationalizations are more important to us than...sex even."

"I am not rationalizing anything. I crossed the line with Catherine, and I was…insubordinate…to Ecklie."

"Why?"

At this one simple question Sara felt her resolve start to falter. "Leave it alone."

"No, Sara."

She didn't know which bothered her more: the fact that he was ignoring her request to drop it, or his gentle persistence to understand. It was an act that she wasn't prepared for. Grissom was an intensely private person, and here he was trying to get her to open up. She could feel her anger rising as she glared up at him. "What do you want from me?"

Grissom's features softened as he looked at her. He had decided ahead of time to be stern with her, to keep his distance, but seeing her struggling erased everything from his mind except the need to care for her. Her adamant reaction was telling, and he was far more worried now that her defenses were cracking. To show his own emotions might scare her away, and he needed to know what was happening. In pushing Sara away all this time, he was missing all the warning signs that she was in distress. He considered to himself that maybe he was choosing to pretend things weren't that serious. Now that he was here, it was so clear that things were amiss, and he couldn't ignore it anymore.

He looked down into her dark eyes, seeing both anger and pain radiating from them. He watched as her eyes flitted around the room, trying so hard to focus anywhere but on the man in front of her. Very few words had already been able to elicit a reaction from her, so he chose to cut right to the heart of the matter. "I want to know why you're so angry."


	2. Trouble

**Chapter 2 – Trouble **

Sara stared up at Grissom, jarred by his concern. If she could just explain what happened at work, maybe she could avoid getting into any of the issues that were really bothering her. She decided to start with the interrogation room, and the issue that cascaded into all this trouble.

"Look, the suspect came in, we questioned him. His wife was found dead; he had been arrested for abuse. I had to ask him about it. You know I had to ask him about it." Her words were coming back to haunt her.

_So what happened, the Russian agency denied your application for another wife, or, uh, you lost your taste for white meat? Too tough?_

"Catherine said the comments you were making were inappropriate. There's questioning and then there's blindsiding. And that doesn't explain the comments you made to her."

"Maybe I got a little out of hand, but he clearly has been abusing his wives, and now one is dead because of it. And what I said to Catherine was true. She just can't handle someone else calling her on her behavior." The anger began to boil to the surface, and it was getting harder and harder to restrain her emotions.

Grissom saw the anger in Sara's eyes and knew that something besides Mr. Melton was behind it. He also recalled the conversation with Catherine and how she had called Sara on her problems with domestic violence and abuse cases. Sara had come back with Catherine's own issues regarding her sexuality, which is when Ecklie called her into his office. Grissom knew each statement held truth in it; he'd seen both firsthand. He let the issue with Catherine drop and brought the conversation back to the interrogation.

"Sara, you had no evidence to support that he was in fact abusing his current wife, nor his former wife. You can't jump to conclusions in cases like this. You need evidence before you accuse anyone of abuse."

Grissom's professional approach wasn't helping her anger, while the conversation with Catherine still played in her head.

_If the guy's an abuser, if he killed his first wife, we will build a case and we will nail him._

_And in the meantime, he can just keep using her as a punching bag._

_Sara, I was there -- there wasn't a mark on her._

_Not that we could see, Catherine._

"I saw pictures of Svetlana, Grissom, she was covered in bruises. His new wife was cowering behind him. Does this represent a man who treats his spouses well? Just because we couldn't see anything on wife number two doesn't mean there aren't any. And it doesn't mean there's never been any. Men who abuse their families have gotten smarter. They know where to hit so no one knows." By now Sara was on her feet, her voice full of rage. Catherine's voice continued to echo.

_You know ... every time we get a case with a _hint _of domestic violence or abuse, _you_ go off the deep end. _What_ is your problem?_

"Sara?" Grissom was now wondering how much of this was case-related and how much of this was personal. Sara's use of the word "families" got Grissom's attention, as well as her escalating anger. Grissom also recalled that Sara said the same thing to Catherine, no bruises that they could see. Sara continued to spiral.

"The fact that Sveltlana ended up in the hospital means he lost his temper. It means he wasn't thinking. It means that she provoked him randomly, something small must have set him off and he hit the first thing he could get his hands on." Sara was using her hands emphatically, pointing at Grissom as he had seen her do once before when she had accused a man of killing his wife. He thought she had overreacted then. Now he was putting the pieces together.

"The fact that she's dead, Grissom…" She closed her eyes tightly, opening them again to reveal a sorrow that made Grissom swallow hard. "She's dead, and who's going to defend her now? Who is going to make sure his new wife is safe? He was supposed to keep her safe, Grissom. A father is supposed to keep his family safe." Sara fell back hard into her chair, her eyes bloodshot with anger and tears. She hadn't realized that at one point in her tirade she had jumbled her words to reveal more than just wanting safety for these women.

"Sara…Mr. Melton…he didn't have any children…" Grissom's mind was racing. Why hadn't he picked up on this before? He recalled the conversation they had years back when Sara had asked him to sleep with her, and he brushed it off as her empathy for the victims.

_You want to sleep with me?_

_Did…you just say what I think you said?_

_That way, when I wake up in a cold sweat under the blanket, hearing Kaye's screams ... you can tell me it's nothing. It's just empathy._

It was certainly more than just the empathy he assumed it to be. Maybe Sara was seeing her past in these cases. It pained him to consider that.

"No," Sara said sadly, her anger gone, her resolve weak. "You want to know why I'm so angry, Grissom? Because I couldn't stop it in my own house. But I can try to stop it from happening to others. It's the whole reason I went into this field." She dropped her gaze to her hands, not wanting to see Grissom's reaction. It was the first glimpse into her tormented past, and she wasn't sure what he would make of it.

Grissom watched her, his heart heavy with the admission he'd come here seeking. Though he hadn't expected to hear these words, it didn't surprise him now that everything put together was making sense. And this troubled him. He knew nothing of Sara's family, but always suspected she kept a lot hidden. He had opened the door to her past, and found himself wanting to know more. Good or bad, he wanted to know everything about Sara Sidle. He told himself it would help understand what happened at work, but in reality, it would help him understand the woman he cared for.

"Sara…please…tell me what happened to you."

She looked up at Grissom, seeing his blue eyes filled with patience and kindness. In her apartment, with the man she'd been chasing waiting for her to speak, she felt trapped and vulnerable. She had imagined this moment happening, the moment where she opened up about her family, but every time she thought she had the courage, her heart seized in panic. What will he think of her once he knows the truth?

"Grissom…I…" she started before trailing off. The words had been there all her life, etched coarsely into her heart, and yet she couldn't put them together.

He saw the tentativeness with which she tried to speak, and the headstrong, defiant woman transformed into a small, helpless child.

"There's…so much…that you don't know about me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "My past is a little…hard to take."

"Sara, I'm here because I want to know what's going on. I want to help you." He could tell by the look on her face that she was hesitant to believe him, and not unfounded with the constant push and pull of their interactions. He cared about Sara in a way that transcended their professional relationship, and he wanted to be the one she leaned on. He just needed to show her, to make her believe it. "Sara, please, you can trust me with this."

Never taking his eyes off her, he moved towards the couch where he sat down across from her. As he made his way over, she reflexively brought her long legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs in a protective self-embrace. The sun setting in the window cast a warm glow on Sara's chestnut hair, and in that moment, he couldn't help but think how beautiful she looked. Gil Grissom had always been one to find the beauty among the pain.

_Since when have you been interested in beauty?_

_Since I met you._

They locked eyes for a moment, and already Sara felt her emotions surging in her chest. For a moment she thought he would be able to hear her heart beating as it raced with panic. She swallowed hard before looking away from him, preparing for any number of reactions just talking could provoke. The thought alone caused her eyes to burn with tears she didn't want to shed. If she couldn't trust the man she loved, there wasn't another person who would ever know the real Sara Sidle. With a deep breath, she plunged headfirst into the dark recesses that held her childhood memories.


	3. Secrets

**Chapter 3 – Secrets**

"It's funny ... the things that you remember and the things that you don't, you know?" Her voice sounded small, resigned. "There was a smell of iron in the air. Cast-off on the bedroom wall. There was this young cop puking his guts." She paused as she relived the moment in her mind. "I remember the woman who took me to foster care. I can't remember her name. Which is strange, you know, 'cause I couldn't let go of her hand." As she recounted the moment that changed her life forever, Sara tried to remain calm and detached. The words that came from her mouth sounded like any other crime scene that she was witness to on a daily basis.

Grissom felt similarly, hearing Sara's words, taking them in as he had done countless times with countless suspects and witnesses. But this was different. This was Sara. He tried to imagine her as a young girl, being a witness to such a heinous scene. The thought deeply saddened him. How she had gone this long without letting anything on, he didn't know, but he was grateful beyond words he could be here for her now.

"Well," Grissom offered, pausing to collect his thoughts, "the mind has its filters." For the moment, everything she said seemed surreal. He waited for her to give identities to the people involved, still trying to wrap his head around such a devastating incident. He couldn't even imagine how this must have looked through the eyes of a child. The effect on an adult is traumatic; to a child…he was awestruck. What she said next shook him to the core, though outwardly he remained stoic to be strong for Sara.

"I do remember the looks," she said, with a wistful gaze of remembrance. "I became the girl whose father was stabbed to death." She looked over at Grissom, trying to make light of the words that now hung heavily in the air. When she saw the deep look of empathy that resonated in his eyes, she immediately looked away to keep from breaking.

"Do you think there's a murder gene?" Her voice was starting to shake noticeably. She still had yet to say the words that haunted her the most. She looked back at Grissom, her eyes alit with fear and sorrow. She knew Grissom to be reserved, sometimes awkward and standoffish. To have his undivided attention and warmth startled her. It drew the words from her, made it hard to stop and think.

Hearing Sara's poignant question moved Grissom, as he tried so hard to have rational answers for her questions. He wanted to say the right things to her; he was never one to be at loss for words. "I don't believe that genes are a predictor of violent behavior."

Sara contemplated that for a moment before continuing. "You wouldn't know that in my house. The fights, the yelling, the trips to the hospital. I thought it was the way that everybody lived." Each confession she made seemed to tear at her more and more. Her eyes began to fill up despite her efforts to stay composed. Amidst hearing her own voice drenched in so much agony, and seeing Grissom regarding her with so much tenderness and compassion, Sara confessed the darkest of her buried secrets.

"When my mother…killed my father…I found out that it wasn't…" She trailed off, at first so detached from the words that it was almost as if she hadn't spoken. But then with a look of shock at her admission, Sara took a deep breath and looked away, her eyes towards the ceiling as if to keep the tears from tumbling over. She attempted to shield her eyes from Grissom, her pain so evident that she was ashamed to look up at him to see his reaction. As she brought her hand up, the dam broke, and her emotions spilled out carried on her choking sobs and overflowing tears. The tears came so quickly that it caused her whole body to shudder. The pain that she had carried by herself was now shared with another soul, and one who she wanted so desperately to save her and make it all okay.

Could he make it okay? Grissom was a man who tried to keep his emotions in check at all times, and this prevented him from being able to reach out even when he truly wanted to. Watching as the woman who had crept so far into his heart in so much pain challenged him to try to break through the walls he had spent so much time building. His heart ached for her, ached for her lost childhood, ached for all the pain she had been holding. That she was strong was an understatement. That she was affected by cases involving abuse now made so much sense to him. She was a survivor, and he was in awe of everything she was. Every day she lived with the ghosts of her past, and every day she fought with her demons to help others. His heart ached anew for having added even a small amount to all the pain that was already too much for her to bear alone.

Once he saw the emotional current overtake her, he wanted to be able to reach out, to do something. His eyes darted back and forth, from her face to her hands, not sure of what he could or should do to help. Always one to be careful, he hesitated momentarily before reaching out to grab her hand, to give her a tangible sign that she wasn't alone. Sara grasped tightly, as if holding on would save her life. He was determined to try to give her something stable amidst the chaos whirling inside her. He had kept her at arm's length for far too long, and for what reason? With Sara's fingers wrapped tightly around his own, Grissom fought the rush of his own emotions.

"Sara…I'm so sorry…" He knew the words were futile, that nothing he could do or say would erase the pain she carried at this moment. He had so many questions, and decided on one that would be safe enough to ask and still get a picture to go on. "How…how old were you, Sara?"

Sara choked on a sob as she looked over to the couch where Grissom was leaning on the edge of his seat, but she looked past him to avoid looking into his eyes. She shifted, putting her feet on the floor, still holding Grissom's hand as she leaned forward as well. "I was…11…when my father died. And that's when I was put into foster care. After the trial, my mother was put into an institution. I haven't seen that much of her since. I haven't seen her at all since I moved out here."

Grissom truly was at a loss for words. He had seen so many abuse cases in his time, so many just like this one, but he had never had any personal involvement with a victim, nor had he seen the effects so intimately from a survivor. Sara knew that this was tough to take, so she continued to explain a little more.

"I know my mother did the best she could…and that what she did was the only way she could protect herself. To protect me. The night she saw him coming out of my room, she told me she would stop it. Not too long after…she did."

"How long…" Grissom faltered over his words, his awkwardness in the situation more and more apparent. His mind still churned. Domestic violence cases. Rape cases. Cases where women were victims. Cases where children were victims. They all affected Sara. They all resonated the past. "Your father…"

"I don't remember the first time he hit me…I don't remember a time when he wasn't hitting my mother…I was 9 the first time he…when he…" Sara tightened her grip on Grissom's hand, the territory too overwhelming for her to continue. She gasped as if she had just been punched in the stomach, and her head began to swim. The tears started again, and Sara doubled over, unleashing a torrent of buried anguish that quickly consumed her.

Grissom exhaled slowly when he realized he had been holding his breath in fearful hesitation. Afraid that his own movement might somehow throw the delicate balance of the world into deeper disarray. Her pain overwhelmed him, and he swallowed hard as his eyes filled with tears of empathy. Holding Sara's hand at this moment, he realized he wanted to be more than just the person she leaned on now; he wanted to be the person she leaned on forever.


	4. Risks

**Chapter 4 – Risks **

For the first time in his life, Gil Grissom felt helpless. All he could do was hold her hand and watch as Sara came apart in front of him. In all the time he had known her, he had seen her cry a couple of times, but never like this. Never this broken. What stabbed at him was the difference in her tears. Whereas before she had cried for the victims who lost their lives, Sara was now crying for the little girl who lost her childhood, her innocence. Holding her hand wasn't enough.

Still holding on tightly, he stood up and leaned down in front of her, placing one hand on her trembling shoulder. Sara's tears stopped long enough to see a change in Grissom's demeanor. She looked at his hand on her shoulder and then back at him expectantly. He motioned to the couch with his head, slowly standing back up coaxing Sara along with him. She still retained the hesitancy from earlier, keeping her eyes downcast feeling very much exposed. Once they were sitting, Grissom took hold of her other hand, gently searching for Sara's eyes so he could look into them, if only to take a little of her pain onto him. Feeling his eyes on her, Sara brought her gaze up slowly to meet his, fighting fresh tears that threatened to engulf her again.

Before thinking what would happen, Grissom brought one hand up to place it gingerly on her cheek, brushing tears away gently with his thumb. Sara closed her eyes and leaned into his open palm, sighing heavily before choking on another sob. A few tears slid down her cheeks, slipping through Grissom's fingers until she was overcome once again, but this time as she began to lose herself, Grissom pulled her into warm embrace. He cradled her head in one hand while stroking her back with the other. "It's ok, Sara," his voice was soothing and kind, "you're safe. I promise you, you're safe now."

In all the years she lived with this nightmare, Sara had never been able to cry as she did in the arms of Gil Grissom. There was never another person she trusted enough to let down her guard and openly admit to how much she had been hurt. There was a faint numbing static at the back of her mind, warning her to protect herself, so cautious not to expose her heart. At that moment, Sara ignored what years of pain had taught her, and she held on tight to the one person she finally let in.

_Come on. I'll take you home. _

It felt to Sara as if she had cried for an eternity, and as the tears began to ebb, she began to fully relish where she was. Her head throbbed, and her eyes burned, but Grissom's heartbeat pulsating in her ears was all that she could focus on. She was lulled by the rising and falling of his chest and also afraid that if she moved the moment would be over, never to return. It was a moment she wanted to hold on to as long as she could, knowing that to him it might not mean as much, but to her, it meant everything.

But in that moment, holding her so closely against him as her tears subsided, Grissom realized so many things he hadn't allowed himself about Sara Sidle. In his arms he held an anomaly. Her vulnerabilities gave her the strength to fight for everything she believed in. When she lost sleep over cases, or got too involved with the backgrounds of victims, he assumed it was because of her commitment to the job. He always considered her a hard worker, diligent and brilliant and resolute. She was determined to a fault. He never stopped to ask why she buried herself in cases; he just accepted it as her fortitude, even if he worried of her burning out. And now, as he stroked her soft hair in the wake of her collapse, he allowed himself to feel the guilt that started to seep into his heart. If he had only paid attention to her subtle cries for help. If only he hadn't felt the need to run away from her. If only he had seen that as much as he didn't want to get hurt, he was hurting her in the process. Maybe this could have been prevented if he had given in to his feelings for her. If only he hadn't used his job as an excuse.

_Because we have to risk everything we've worked for in order to have her… _

What did he think of her after knowing the truth? He didn't think he could love Sara anymore than he already did, but it happened. He had already wasted so much time, would he be too late? He wanted to tell her all of these things, but didn't want to disturb her now that she was calm and resting against him. As he contemplated all the things he wanted to say, Sara brought her head up to face him. Her face was flushed and streaked with tears, and her expression was one of remorse. She looked away from him as she hastily tried to rid herself of the aftermath, wiping away tears with the back of her hand. Her shoulders tensed, and from the look on her face, he knew she suddenly felt uncomfortable.

"Grissom, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…" Sara moved away from him feeling raw and exposed. The words replayed in her head and she cringed at her outburst. She looked down at her hands as she intertwined her fingers, sighing deeply.

"Sara," Grissom put his hand under her chin to bring her eyes up to his. They widened in surprise at his touch. "I'm glad you told me."

Her breathing became slightly shallow as her anxiety rose. "Really?"

"Yes. I am."

"You know, no one, here, in Vegas knows. I've never told anyone…about my family…"

"I'm glad you trusted me. I'm glad I could be here, for you." He was treading dangerously close to admitting just how glad he was. There was nowhere else he would rather be than here looking into Sara's eyes. Even among the pain that was so unmistakable, her eyes glistened with longing. Maybe he wouldn't need to say anything at all.

Sara's eyes traveled down and locked on Grissom's lips as they moved, mesmerized by the words that just came from them. If she kept watching, maybe she could capture those words, hold them in her hands for her to see and believe. Maybe she could will those lips closer to her own. "I've wanted to tell you…so many times…"

Grissom's eyes once again flitted back and forth in uncertainty, from Sara's parted lips up to her fervent eyes. He brought his hand up to brush her cheek tenderly with the back of his fingers.

_We have to risk everything… _

When her eyes fluttered shut at his touch, he leaned in until his lips softly brushed with hers. For a moment they lingered until he deepened the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup her face. Sara's breath carried a small sigh as her eyes filled with new tears at the gentleness of the moment. His mouth caressed hers almost reverently as he immersed himself in a physical connection that ignited sparks through his whole body. Grissom started to lose himself in her, the taste of her, the softness of her, when she released his mouth abruptly to look at him, her eyes shining with confusion and fear.

"What's wrong, Sara?" His voice was soft, breathless, but fringed with worry.

Sara's eyes were imploring as she searched his face for signs that this wasn't just another game. That kiss spoke volumes, but as it always happened, when Grissom got too close he retreated even further back. She couldn't bear to get caught up in his affection now if he was going to take it back tomorrow. After everything that just happened over the past couple of hours, her heart would shatter at his rejection.

"Griss, please, don't do this if you can't follow through. Don't taunt me with mixed messages, I don't think I could handle it this time around…" Her voice seemed to fade out as she looked away from him, bracing herself to hear his retraction, to deny her once again of the love she ached to have.

_Sara…I don't know what to do about this._

He could almost see her defenses weaving together in front of him, the need to protect herself almost tangible.

_I do. You know, by the time you figure it out, you really could be too late. _

The sound of Grissom's pager sounded just as he was preparing to speak. He looked down to see the name then back up at Sara with eyes filled with flustered remorse. She knew that look. It meant that whatever he was doing needed to be put on hold for the lab. Inhaling a shuddering breath, she shut her eyes tight to keep back more tears. The floodgates had opened and Sara found it hard to reign in her emotions. The mere idea of him leaving sent her into a spiral of panic. She refused to crumble again in front of him, so she chose the anger she was so accustomed to instead.

"Just say it, Grissom, just say it and get it over with so you can run away back to the lab."

"Sara, that's not…I'm not running away. " Grissom felt torn by Ecklie's urgent page because it was clear that Sara was still emotionally charged. "For now you are still on suspension, and tomorrow is my day off, so maybe…" He trailed off, still so uncertain as to how he should be doing this. The last thing he wanted was to upset her, and was afraid he would either way.

"What are you saying, Grissom?"

"I want to finish this conversation, please, if I can just go back to the lab, see what Ecklie wants, I promise I will come right back here to finish this."

"What are you going to tell him, about me?" The possibility of losing her job, of losing Grissom, was starting to sink in. The hint of worry did not go unnoticed.

"I told you, you're safe. I meant it, in every sense. You're not going anywhere."

Sara watched his eyes as he spoke. The sincerity she saw was genuine. The urgency she saw in his pleading placated her; his reassurance of her safety calmed her. She just nodded, deciding to let the matter drop for now, but not before making a silent pact with herself that she would be in control of herself once he returned.

"Honey, please, I'm not abandoning you." He saw the slight look of bewilderment on her face, realizing that once again he'd managed to let slip a term of endearment. He took her hands in his, allowing the words to sink in, endearment and all. Grissom was done running from his feelings, and his departure at this moment in time would not shake his resolve.

_Because we have to risk everything in order to have her._

He gave her hands a gentle squeeze before seeing himself out. Sara leaned back into her sofa and stared up at the ceiling, trying not to count the seconds until Gil Grissom came back through her door.


	5. Reasons

**Chapter 5 – Reasons **

Grissom arrived back at the lab after a drive that gave him far too much time to think. In the time it took to drive back from Sara's apartment, he had replayed the entire scene that gave him more insight than he was ready for, but an encounter he wouldn't trade with anyone. Ecklie was waiting to hear of Sara's termination, and didn't know that Grissom was not in the lab but in fact with Sara. Grissom didn't feel it necessary to inform Ecklie of how he wanted to handle the situation, figuring he'd avoid an argument before it happened. Ecklie had given Grissom twenty-four hours to fire her, and he was already a day late with the outcome. He had taken that time to think about what to do rather than immediately jump to letting her go. He found himself angry with Ecklie because he knew the man would never have the capacity to understand, which in turn made him feel grateful that Sara had trusted him, had given him the chance. For now he would keep her past out of it and take responsibility himself. Anything he could do to keep the heat off of her. Anything to prove that he would in fact keep her safe.

He made his way to Ecklie's office, composed and ready. He saw Ecklie and Catherine both sitting closely going over files. This relieved him, though only slightly, for this would save him the trouble of having to explain his actions twice. Once Catherine got wind of his decision, she would surely want an explanation as well.

"You wanted to talk to me about Sara?"

"I haven't received her disciplinary action. What's the holdup?" Conrad Ecklie was a man who played strictly by the rules. It was his way of leadership that caused so much friction between him and Gil Grissom. Whereas Grissom always allowed for speculation before reaching a conclusion, Ecklie bypassed speculation altogether.

"Well, I'm not firing her."

Catherine interjected, ambivalent to what she wanted done about the situation. Everyone is entitled to a bad day, but Sara had been overreacting far more frequently. She was still somewhat reeling from Sara's insinuations, making her anger less about the suspect and more of the personal assault. "What action are you taking?"

Grissom merely looked at Catherine. "I've taken it."

"I thought I was clear." Ecklie didn't have patience when things weren't done his way. If things veered off his intended path, he wanted to know why.

"You were. Now let me be clear. Sara's behavior is a direct result of my management."

Ecklie looked smug at Grissom's taking responsibility for Sara's insolent behavior. He knew Gil would go to any length to protect the people that worked for him, and he knew he'd go to even greater lengths for his special protégé. Gil's protective streak for Sara Sidle had always been abundantly clear. "So I should fire you."

Grissom smiled at the prospect. "But you won't." His talents were invaluable assets to the forensic team, and they both knew it.

Ecklie visibly began to lose his patience. "Look, Gil ... I've been there. We're human. We get attached to people, we try to fix their problems. It doesn't work."

"She's a great criminalist, Conrad. And I need her."

Ecklie gave Grissom a smarmy smile, one that he seemed to reserve for Grissom's attachment to Sara. "I'm sure you do." He stood up, gathered his files, and made it clear that because he didn't get the outcome he expected, the conversation was done. But not without having the final word. "You know what? She's a loose cannon with a gun. And she's all yours."

Grissom just watched as Ecklie gathered his files to leave. He shifted his gaze to Catherine, who was watching him intently. He raised his eyebrow and gave her a shrug, not sure what he should say to her, for as ambivalent as Catherine felt about the way he was handling things, he felt just as ambivalent about how she had handled Sara. If he said anything in Sara's defense, Catherine would think he was just siding with her because of his feelings for her. And at this moment, Grissom didn't know how much of that was false. Even Sara had admitted to being out of line with Catherine, but armed with new information, he felt Catherine might have been out of line as well.

"Gil," Catherine began, but Grissom interjected.

"Catherine, it's done. I've already seen her and handled the situation."

Sara hadn't been seen at the lab, so Catherine immediately wondered when he had seen her given the overtime he's been putting in, but made no mention of it. "Did she say why she reacted like that?"

"We all have reasons why we handle things the way we do. She's not the first one to ever become emotionally involved in a case." Grissom gave her a pointed look that made Catherine shift her gaze. "Yes, this case got to Sara, but you can't tell me there has never been a case that has made you react similarly."

Catherine looked back at Grissom, her eyes conveying a mixture of remorse and empathy. She knew cases involving children sent her into the same emotional spiral. Thinking back, she had reacted even more adamantly towards suspects than Sara had. "You know, it's hard when you see yourself in other people. Especially if a personal vendetta can drive you with so much passion."

"I know, Catherine, which is why I need Sara here. She's very passionate about her work." Grissom suddenly became noticeably anxious, glancing down at his watch as he spoke with her.

"Come on, Gil. We both know that's not the only reason you need her here."

Grissom's head snapped up as if she had been reading his mind and he cocked his brow. "Catherine. I don't want to go down this road right now."

"You are going to have to eventually. I've watched you dance around this subject for the past five years. It's wearing on you, Gil. I've known you too long not to notice. It's probably wearing on her, too."

It was true that Catherine Willows was one of the few people that could actually get inside Grissom's head. Even still, Grissom rarely wanted people there. He kept even the closest friends at bay. He kept anyone he cared about at bay. After seeing Sara so open tonight, it was the first time he ever wanted to change that. But by no means was it going to happen immediately.

Catherine's ability to read people was akin to his own. However, whereas Grissom never knew how to handle that knowledge, in fact always seeming to do the opposite, Catherine seemed to excel at it. It's what kept them both a balanced team. She knew he didn't handle people well, and she had no problem stepping up to help him out. Grissom's only grievance was when Catherine used her powers of observation to try to help him manage his own ineptness with Sara. It was a realm that Grissom felt too awkward discussing with anyone. To be nearly fifty years old and clueless about relationships was not something he was proud of, and Catherine's intentions, though pure, only made him feel more ill at ease.

"Thank you, Catherine, but I don't need the lecture." He hoped his firmness masked the various emotions that were fighting to come to the forefront. Every minute he spent discussing the reasons he hadn't confronted his feelings for Sara was time spent away from that very confrontation. "Look, I only came back for Ecklie, I was interrupted from something important. We can get into this some other time."

Catherine saw the nervousness furrowing Grissom's brow. By this point, she had already made her own assessment. She stood up, making her way to the door. "It's fine. Just…tell Sara I'm sorry."

Grissom's face registered a level of shock before he was able to control it. "How…" Grissom started to ask, but Catherine held up her hand.

"It's my job to notice things, Gil."

Grissom gave Catherine a skeptical look. No matter how many times she saw through him, it always surprised him. His features softened into a demure smile. "I will."


	6. Thank You

**Chapter 6 – Thank You**

Not long after Grissom had left, Sara had fallen asleep while trying not to think and replay everything that transpired the past few hours. Her head was pounding, and she had only intended to rest for a moment before she drifted off, the taste of his lips still lingering in her senses. She had imagined thousands of times what a kiss would be like with him, but nothing compared the actual sensation. Sleep had been able to save her from overanalyzing the moment between them, and close the gap of her impatience to finish what they had started. Not intending to fall asleep, Sara hadn't gotten up to lock the door behind Grissom. As she closed her eyes to rest, her last thought was that he was coming back for her, and she silently prayed he wouldn't disappoint her.

Grissom arrived back at her apartment infinitely more nervous then when he left. The drive away had given him time to process Sara's traumatic past; the drive back was giving him time to think about his future and what place she could have in it. Though learning about her past had made the decision for him, it was how to handle everything from this point on that frightened him. When he had admitted to her he didn't know what to do after refusing her dinner invitation, he meant it. As time passed, he resigned to the inevitability that it was too late. Judging by the look in her eyes before he kissed her, he knew there was a chance he wasn't.

He knocked on the door when he arrived back at her apartment. When there wasn't an answer, he turned the handle, realizing it was unlocked, and quietly let himself inside. From the doorway, he could see Sara's sleeping frame, her body relaxed. He softly made his way over to the couch, careful not to wake her. He paused for a moment before he sat in the chair across from her, the same chair she was sitting in as she confided her harrowing story. Grissom felt slightly voyeuristic as he watched her, for she was unaware that he had entered. Even still, he couldn't help but take advantage of the moment and watch her; the way her dark hair framed her pale skin and flushed cheeks, her slender body graceful and reposed, the serene expression that only a deep sleep can bring.

_Since I met you._

Any doubts were erased as he watched her peaceful breathing; he could spend forever, every night, with her lying beside him, breathing just the same.

At some point she felt his presence and her lashes fluttered opened, revealing a grateful gaze as she saw Grissom's tentative smile. She sat up, brushing the hair from her face. "How long have you been here?" Her voice was raspy with the remnants of sleep, but her eyes were shining with adoration.

"I'm not sure, not very long." Truth be told it had been a little under an hour, but he didn't want to cause her any discomfort, or reveal the moments he had stolen watching her rest. His heart pounded in anticipation, and thought how this is what it would like every morning if he got the chance to sleep next to her.

"Thank you."

Upon her waking, Grissom didn't want to be away from her any longer, and her sincere statement of gratitude enticed him to her side immediately. "For what?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"For coming back to me."

It was the simplicity of her words that got to him. "Oh Sara…" he started, at once overcome with compassion and remorse. "Honey, I told you I wasn't abandoning you." Once again he reached for her hands, and once again she held on tightly. Looking into her brown eyes, he tried to find the words to say what he'd been thinking on the way over, but Sara started to speak before he had the chance.

"Look, Grissom. I said a lot today. And…I let you in to see a side to me that no one really has seen. I trusted you, and I can't say I regret it, because I don't. But…that kiss, Grissom. I need to know what that kiss meant. I need to know what exactly I mean to you, because I can't keep doing this to myself."

"Then you need to know this." Grissom took one hand and placed it on her cheek. "I didn't kiss you because I was confused. I kissed you because I've finally figured it out. Everything you told me here today made me rethink what I was doing. I don't want to cause you any more pain." With that he moved his hand behind her neck to pull her in to another kiss, this one with more urgency than the first.

Sara was completely overwhelmed with how much passion there was in this second kiss. This time she didn't fight it, even though her thoughts still swirled in confusion at what his admission meant. She did know that he was no longer confused, he had come back to her, and his touches alone spoke so many words that she knew he was afraid to say. Caught up in the moment, Sara pushed aside all rational thinking, for she was coasting on pure emotions since she opened the door to find Grissom on the threshold. Her need to confess how she felt outweighed anything else, but she hesitated. She was tentative, cautious, and she didn't want to push him away now that he was finally giving her something to hold on to. There was one thing she wanted more right at this moment than anything else, so holding off on a confession, Sara decided on a request.

"Grissom…" the words played in her mind, but her fear was almost palpable.

Grissom pulled away to look her. He heard the fear that was wound around his name, and saw the apprehension reflected in her brown eyes.

"Would you stay…with me…we don't have to do anything…just…" She bit her lip and lowered her eyes. "I don't want to be alone tonight." Her voice was soft, sullen.

Grissom placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Sure…yes...of course. Anything you need, I'm here." He hesitated a minute as he looked at her. "If you are tired now, you can sleep and I'll stay out here, I'll make sure you are ok."

"Griss…you don't have to stay out here. I'd rather…you be with me….if that's okay." Sara's cheeks flushed at the idea of everything she was asking of her boss, of everything he was willing to do for her now. The change that occurred with him this evening gave her the courage she hadn't felt in months.

Grissom cocked an eyebrow at her suggestion, and whereas he knew her request was innocent, sleeping next to her was a level of intimacy he had yet to experience. Even still, the idea of her warm body against his as they slept was something he couldn't refuse. With that, he led her into her bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed turned away to offer her some privacy. As she changed, he removed his shoes and socks, suddenly aware that he couldn't sleep in his work clothes. More so, he wasn't accustomed to sleeping in anything more than his boxers. Like a teenager afraid of being caught, he undressed quickly and jumped under the covers.

Sara let out a small laugh, the first time she had truly smiled all day. She climbed under the covers with him, surprised at how natural it felt to curl up in the arms of her barely dressed supervisor. Grissom marveled at the same thought, thinking how sweet and beautiful Sara looked, wearing a t-shirt and flannel shorts. As she rested her head on his chest, her soft hair splayed against his skin, his mind churned with what all this would mean. As her supervisor, he knew pursuing anything would go against everything he's worked for. His mind wanted to continue to mull it over, but he was lulled by Sara's deep breathing against him, and soon both of them were embraced with sleep, entwined with each other.


	7. Subtleties

**Chapter 7 – Subtleties **

The sun that filtered into Sara's window wasn't what roused her from her peaceful slumber. Rather, it was Grissom's hand on her hip, the innocent oblivion of sleep that enticed his hand to her flesh. She shifted to face him, and watched as he breathed softly beside her. She could be content to watch him sleep for hours if it meant he never left her side. But even in sleep he felt her gaze upon him, and when he opened his eyes, she caught a hint of apprehension, and immediately worried that he regretted what had happened. He kissed her forehead, bringing her into his arms, reassuring her that nothing had changed since the night before, but things were more complicated now.

"I meant it when I said I didn't know what to do. I still don't. I'm your supervisor. It's not going to look good." He asked her to give him some time, to be patient with him, and Sara complied. She knew something had transpired that night, and if she needed to wait a little while longer for him to be comfortable, she would gladly wait forever.

Gil Grissom finally had given her a reason to hope.

Back at the lab, Grissom wanted to keep an eye on Sara upon her return, but more than that, he wanted to be near her. Ever since the night she confided in him, he felt more protective of her, felt a more pressing need to keep her safe. He assigned her to the case with Sofia, Greg and himself, working on a murder case involving a young mother. He hoped it would be enough to ease her back into work without evoking too much from her past. Being hypervigilant of her demons was going to be difficult, but he was determined to try.

Sara was determined to prove to Grissom that he did the right thing by allowing her to keep her job. She interviewed the husband of the victim without accusations. She interviewed the victim's friend respectfully. And when Amy Maynard admitted abusive tendencies from the victim's husband, Sara fought the swirling in her mind and treated her with compassion. She decided to head right over to Amy's car when she concluded the interview. Processing evidence always gave her focus, and she'd be damned if another potential domestic case sent her spiraling.

She had always known what those cases had the power to do to her, but she had always been afraid to let on why that was so. Ever since the night she confided in Grissom, she felt closer to him, felt the weight of her past had lifted enough to push her forwards, not back. Working on a case with him would help ease her back into the normalcy she craved. The friendship she had been missing so desperately was on its way to being repaired, and her work had always given her a purpose. Without her job, she would be lost. Without Grissom…she didn't want to contemplate it.

_You've always been a little more than a boss to me._

Greg walked into the garage to find Sara staring at the trunk in frustration. The conversation started with the car, but quickly turned when Greg's curiosity got the best of him. It was no secret to anyone that Greg Sanders had designs on Sara Sidle. Unlike Gil Grissom, Greg wore his heart on his sleeve and was a little more adept at wooing the ladies. Even if his wooing tactics were more Chandler than Casanova. It was always endearing to Sara, bringing a smile to her face whenever his eyes got that sparkle.

"I don't mean to pry, but you want to talk about what happened with you and Ecklie?"

"Not really." Sara was warmed by the concern, but wanted to leave well enough alone. Rehashing the situation with Ecklie was something she wanted to avoid for a good long time.

"I don't know if you know this about me, but I'm a good listener." Greg leaned in with a low voice as if telling Sara a secret he wouldn't want shared with the rest of the world. It was all in his best attempts to win Sara over with his kindness.

Sara smiled at Greg's persistence and obvious affection. "I…blew up at Ecklie. It was very unprofessional. And very satisfying, and now I'm moving on."

Greg seemed satisfied with that answer, giving Sara a nod in agreement.

"Thanks for asking." She gave Greg a small smirk, which he returned, feeling privileged that she confided even a little of the story with him. With that she closed the trunk of the car.

They walked out of the garage, prepared to go their separate ways, but not before Sara ruffled Greg's hair, flashing her gap-toothed smile.

"Just remember," Greg said, his heart racing at her touch, "Anytime you need to talk, I'm here." To mask his starry-eyed reaction, he winked, and clicked his tongue to give sound to the hand gun he shot her way. Sara giggled, and Greg spun on his heels, barely hiding the smile that spread across his face. He knew his chances were slim to none, but it didn't stop him from trying, and it didn't stop him from relishing in her infectious smile.

Sara went back to look over evidence, waiting to present it to Grissom upon his return from the Kyman residence. She always wanted to be Grissom's star pupil. The years of working with him never changed that. In some ways, it made her want to impress him more. Since their lips met, Sara had felt like a schoolgirl with an intense crush on her handsome teacher. It was silly, she knew, but it made her feel alive again.

Walking down the hallway towards the break room, Sara was eager to present her findings, possibly narrowing down the list of suspects to the husband. She rounded the corner with determination, but her paced slowed when she saw the two people in the break room. Her heart stopped the moment she spotted Grissom, side-by-side with Sofia, their heads bent, appearing very comfortable in a low-key conversation. She braced herself for the wave of anxiety that always overtook her when he gave his attention to another female. Sara was insecure enough about how she compared to the number of blondes he seemed to fawn over. She had watched as he swooned over Teri Miller, and felt the pang of jealousy in her stomach whenever she showed up to help on a case. Even fair-haired Catherine was able to garner some of that attention, even if he would never admit to it. Sofia Curtis, the lab's newest addition, was just another strong, intelligent female that seemed to take a liking to Gil Grissom. And as awkward as Grissom was at times, his handsome features and piercing eyes were enough for any woman to overlook his social clumsiness, and when they did, Grissom always responded in kind. Inept at flirting, Grissom was not.

But if Sara was going to ensure her position in Grissom's heart, she wasn't going to do it weakly. She inhaled sharply, glancing down a moment as she tried to regain her inner balance, so easily shaken by Grissom's wayward attention. With the false air of confidence she had spent many years cultivating, Sara walked into the break room, swallowing hard as she prepared to interrupt the cozy conference. Putting on a look of concentration, she let her voice slice through the intimate conversation that she hoped was only case-related.

"DNA from Lori's shirt came back. It matches her husband."

Grissom and Sofia abruptly turned around. Sofia's smile died on her lips upon seeing Sara's dark eyes, and Grissom looked faintly guilty, if only for a moment. He knew that nothing was going on prior to Sara's entrance, but the look in her eyes made him feel as if there had been.

"That could be probative," Sofia stated, noting the resentment hinting at Sara's features.

Sara nodded at Sofia in agreement, then turned her gaze to Grissom. Her eyes were flashing with subtle accusations, while the look on her face remained calm and nonchalant. When Sara felt threatened, her pride took over. She may be dizzy with abandonment on the inside, but her cool exterior would never let on that she was hurt. Irritated, yes. Shaken, no.

If he were being honest with himself, he had found Sofia Curtis intriguing from the moment they spoke in the elevator, but intriguing didn't compare to what he felt for Sara. Every woman that came into the lab sparked Grissom's interest, if only because they provided a distraction from the racing in his heart whenever Sara was around. To fall for someone that he didn't supervise would have been nice, welcome even, but it never changed how he felt. By the suspicious look in Sara's eyes, he knew that it was not unfounded. A night together was not going to instantly repair the trust that had faltered by his own doing. One more issue he would need to address in time. He kept his own wandering thoughts in tact and continued on with Sara's findings.

Sara handed the trace results to Grissom, who noted the baby powder on the victim's hand. They each concluded that the evidence contradicted the husband's version of the events of that night.

"I hate to state the obvious, but maybe the husband is lying." Sara's head was still churning, and knew that there was a slight insinuation in the tone of that statement that wasn't directed at Mr. Kyman. Sofia seemed to pick up on it too, but wasn't entirely sure how to react. Sofia had no idea the situation she was instigating. Like Grissom, she too pushed thoughts aside to deal with the case at hand.

"Mark killed her, drove her out to Sutor, and dumped the body."

"One problem," Grissom interjected. "Mark doesn't have a car and the carpet fibers we found on Lori's clothing are inconsistent with her Lexus."

"Or, maybe Lori came home, she and Mark had a fight. Maybe she found out he was fooling around again." Once again Sara's eyes fell on Sofia. Dammit Sara, she thought to herself, could you make this anymore obvious? So much for a schoolgirl with a crush. You're like a schoolgirl with claws.

Once the conversation finished, Sara refused to linger in the break room to scoop up scraps from a conversation that had already been in progress. She made her way back through the hallway, craving the freedom of the hazy Nevada afternoon. I'd love to find out what is going through his mind, Sara thought to herself. Getting Grissom to admit to his feelings was only the first step on a long, winding staircase. And to what, she wondered. What would be there once she reached the top? _If_ she reached the top, was the question now.


	8. Dinner Date

**Chapter 8 – Dinner Date **

"Listen, you guys, I'll catch up later." Sofia looked back at Greg and Sara, excusing herself from the talk about the case to tackle a more pressing, personal matter.

Greg had been paying attention enough to notice the tension between Sara and Sofia. He could only speculate that Sofia's subtle flirtatious remarks were getting under Sara's skin. Before Sofia, Sara had been the only one at the lab whom all the men at the lab flocked to, so he assumed it was issue of pride. Little did Greg know that there was only one man to whom Sara was paying close attention.

"Hmm. She's fitting in pretty well, huh?"

They both had stopped walking, and Sara turned to Greg, a number of thoughts swirling in her mind. All she could do was stare at him, her expression one of irritation. She had nothing to offer him but a cold stare, so she turned and walked away, leaving Greg smirking behind her. As much as he enjoyed flirting with Sara, teasing her seemed as much fun; sometimes she was easy to rattle. Any reaction was a good reaction as far as he was concerned.

Sara stopped in the hallway, turning around to make sure Greg had left before going back the way she came. Inwardly she chastised herself for what she was about to do, but she was tired of making assumptions. It wasn't in her nature to let things drop, and as an investigator, she felt eavesdropping was a perfectly acceptable way to get the information she wanted. Besides, she figured, if I were to get caught, I could always say I was headed there anyways. We were working a case together, after all.

She approached his office slowly, making out two voices: one female, one male. One was warm, familiar. The other smooth like honey. She didn't enjoy the combination. As she got closer to the door, she stopped, Grissom's gentle voice abrasive against her ears.

"Well, someone once said, "What we are never changes, but who we are...never stops changing.""

Behind the door, Sofia offered Grissom a smile.

"Let's have dinner, shall we?"

Did he…just say what she thought he said? Dinner with Sofia? Sara's heart began to race at the prospect. This…this wasn't supposed to happen. She noticed the way that Sofia always stood a little too closely to Grissom. She noticed the lust in her eyes, the way her smile curved seductively when she spoke to him. Sara assumed it was a one-way thing, but it was Grissom who extended the dinner invitation, without any prompting from the svelte blonde.

Sara felt the tears well in her eyes, her cheeks flushed hot with panic. She braced herself against the wall to keep her balance from the torrent of emotion that suddenly filled her every fiber. Blinking to keep the tears at bay, she stared up at the ceiling, the need to flee overtaking her. With a deep breath she propelled herself off the wall and tore down the hall, not wanting to be there when the two emerged from Grissom's office. She had never been so grateful for the end of shift, and didn't lessen her gait until she was in her car, away from the lab, away from Sofia's sultry smile, away from Grissom's cutting betrayal. She was tired of giving him the benefit of the doubt, tired of giving him chances. At this point, she was just tired. Her head felt heavy and her eyes burned, but she refused to cry over a wounded heart.

If only it were that simple.

By the time Sara started her car, a tear had found its way down her cheek, splashing on to the leather on her steering wheel. These past few months had been such a roller coaster for her that she wondered just when she lost all control over herself. She had handled herself better at Grissom's refusal for dinner.

Dinner. Hearing that word from Grissom to someone else was a verbal dagger. Did last week really affect anything? _When Grissom got too close, he retreated even further back_. One step forward had brought them three steps back. How did she not see this coming? Her sadness turned to rage, and all she wanted now was the comfort of her bed. Grissom may have held her hand that one night while she cried, but her bed was there to hold her every other time. She resolved to the fact that she would always be alone.

Gil Grissom gave her proof that no one was reliable.

"Is this…such a good idea?" Sofia looked up from the menu at Grissom. The scene from the break room had been playing in her mind, and Grissom's dinner invitation, while welcome, caught her off-guard.

"Dinner between colleagues? Where's the harm in that?" To Grissom, dinner was nothing more than a meal shared with people away from the lab, no different than breakfast or lunch. Though dinners usually meant dates, a slave to a nightshift schedule left Grissom oblivious to conventional standards.

"Gil, I saw the way Sara looked at me in the break room earlier. I feel like maybe I'm getting in the middle of something."

"I…what do you mean?"

"Look, Gil, I find you interesting…attractive even…but I'm not here to cause trouble."

Grissom looked genuinely confused by Sofia's implication. Even more so at Sofia's admission. Attention like this always baffled him. Being overlooked was something he understood. Being seen as something other than the science geek, or the bug guy, Grissom didn't really understand the attraction. Sofia saw something in him. Sara had always seen something in him.

Sara. Grissom's thoughts always came back to Sara. More proof that it didn't matter what he did, who he was with, his heart would always echo her name.

"You aren't causing trouble, I promise. It's been a long couple of weeks for Sara. Please don't take it personally." Making excuses was an easier option than admitting the fact that Sara was in fact jealous. He hadn't wanted to admit to himself that it was how Sara was feeling, but hearing Sofia's words left him no choice. He made a decision then of what he would do once this dinner was concluded.

"Well then, Gil, why not tell me the reason for our dinner date?" Sofia smiled sweetly, and much like Greg Sanders, knew the signs of a person clear out of reach. Any man who comes to the immediate defense of another woman is not one to be sought after. The look in his eyes as he spoke of her said all she needed to know. And teasing was another form of flirting that she could enjoy just the same.

"I wanted to make an attempt to convince you to stay. I think you would make a valuable addition to our team."

"Well, since you asked so nicely, I may just have to consider it."

Grissom smiled. "I guess that's the best I can hope for."

His thoughts were churning over the break room conversation, and the conversation with Sara in his office. He had asked her if she was doing okay, and she had told him she was. She had brushed it off as no big deal, moving on to information concerning the case. These things always make sense in hindsight, he thought.

Nearly fifty years old and clueless, there was not a truer statement. When it came to Sara Sidle, he felt like he was fifteen, no more than a schoolboy with a puppy dog crush.

"_The course of true love never did run smooth."_

Ah yes, Grissom thought, Shakespeare may have cited the truest sentiments of all.

But quotes would not solve things this time. After dinner, in his car, it was his words that played in his head. Only he could fix things now.


	9. Balance

**Chapter 9 – Balance **

Twice in a little over a week there was a knock on Sara's door. Not accustomed to having anyone ever stop by, Sara felt a nervous pang at who could be standing on the other side. She had managed to keep it together for her ride home, and had collapsed on her bed moments after arriving home. Sleep eluded her, which just added to the injury she was already feeling.

Opening the door to see a nervous looking Grissom, Sara swallowed hard as her eyes began to burn.

"Can I come in?"

Once again Sara remained silent as she allowed her supervisor into her living room. She fought the dizziness of her emotions, fought the anger just barely below the surface.

Grissom turned around to look at her, and this time he really looked at her. He noticed her tense shoulders, saw how she kept her head slightly downcast to avoid looking directly at him. He saw her bring her arms up, folding them across her chest as if protecting herself from a harsh wind. One hand tugged at her sleeve as she shifted uncomfortably, as if being in her own skin was too much to bear. When she did finally bring her gaze up to meet his, the look in them was unmistakable. It was an awkward moment as they locked eyes, a deafening silence hanging between them. Sara held him captive, her brown eyes almost electric, and Grissom felt his own nerves falter under the weight of her stare.

"Why are you here, Grissom?" Her voice was soft, tired. It carried the painful timbre of defeat.

Grissom inhaled sharply, the words trapped behind pursed lips as he fought to make his voice say something, anything to soften the look in her eyes. "I needed to see you."

"Why?"

The same simple question that sent Sara spiraling was about to shake Grissom's foundation.

"I guess I wanted to see for myself if you were really okay." Stalling, he thought, always stalling. Always pushing her away. Never taking the risk.

"Alright. I'm fine. Satisfied?"

Grissom wasn't sure what had happened between his office and this moment. At least when Sara had said she was okay before, she was warm, even if she wasn't telling the truth. The abrupt change in her demeanor caught him by surprise.

"Sara…what's wrong?"

"Why aren't you at dinner with Sofia?"

Grissom blinked disbelievingly. "How…"

"I heard you, Grissom. I was coming by your office after shift, admittedly because I knew where Sofia was headed, so I followed here. I heard you talking. And I heard enough to know that I feel absolutely foolish for putting any faith in you." Sara began to tremble at the words that fell from her lips.

"Sara, you don't understand." His intentions had been innocent, to try to help a colleague, but given Sara's reaction to Sofia, he could only imagine how this looked to her. He moved closer, the pull of her emotions so strong, and was relieved when she didn't back away.

"What don't I understand Grissom? That you can refuse my invitation for dinner, come to my house and placate me with a taste of affection, and then turn around and hand it to someone else?"

"No, that's not…"

"I'm tired of this Griss. I'm tired of this back and forth. I'm tired of waiting. I'm tired of understanding, of being patient, of being second best. I'm so tired of holding on hope for something that you can never give to me."

"Sara…"

"No, stop. Just stop." Sara refused to let Grissom say anything that could cause her any more pain. If she kept talking, maybe she wouldn't have to get to the inevitable point where he validated all the things she said, making all her fears a reality. "I can't do this anymore. I just can't." And with that, the first tear tumbled down Sara's cheek.

Grissom reached out in an attempt to brush the stray tear from her cheek. Sara bit her lip and turned her head, trying to avoid the softness of his hand and the warmth of his body. He retracted his hand hesitantly, closing his fingers in a loose fist, letting his hand drop to his side. He was losing her. With every second that passed, he was losing this battle.

"What is it about me, Grissom?" Her question was so soft he wasn't sure she had spoken at first. He needed to say something to regain his footing.

"You make me nervous." His confession was just as soft, and Sara turned her eyes back to him, brows furrowed in confusion. That wasn't the answer she was expecting.

"I what?"

"You make me nervous," he repeated. "The way I feel about you, how I have felt about you, I have no idea what to do, so I haven't done anything. I'm sorry, that my uncertainty has hurt you."

"And how do you feel, exactly?" She still spoke softly, as if a louder tone would shatter the moment, leaving shards of what could have been at their feet.

_We have to risk everything… _

"I'm in love with you. And have been for quite some time."

The force of his statement threw Sara off balance, and without hesitation she kissed him. It was more than just a kiss at that moment, it was salvation. It was wanting something so badly and finally having it. It was two lost souls who had finally found their way. It was true love, in every sense, finally running smooth.

"I love you," she said, her voice breathless with desire and tinged with desperation.

Grissom paused, breaking the kiss to look straight into Sara's eyes. He saw the worry, he saw the apprehension, and he saw the absolute adoration, all that he felt mirrored his own soul at the moment. He knew she was scared, as was he, but he trusted they could be safe together. "And I love you, Sara."

Sara's eyes widened at his admission. All her time, all her pining, all the waiting had finally rewarded her. She blinked back more tears, so many questions whirling at once. "What…what does this mean? For us?"

"I don't know, Sara. I don't know how this is supposed to work. I'm your supervisor…I'm so much older than you are…and quite honestly, I don't know what I'm doing." All fears that Grissom had yet to discuss came more easily with Sara so captivated in hearing him speak. "I've been trying to figure this out. Admitting what you meant to me was a big step. From here, I don't know."

"You're here now. We can take it slow, there's no rush." She brought her hand up to rest it on the gray scruff of his bearded cheek.

"I'm not too late?"

"Gil Grissom," Sara embraced him, her cheek softly resting against a bare section of his warm skin, her words almost a sigh in his ears, "I would have waited forever." She backed up slightly, as if tethered to his heart, her lips once again in a anxious rush for his, ending all talk, stopping all thinking, focusing on nothing but the taste of his mouth, the warmth of his breath, the electricity in her veins.

To Grissom, it tasted like forever, devotion, the rest of his life, here, with her. His fears dissolving, one by one, as he lost himself in Sara Sidle, the woman he finally risked everything for, and now he had her. Even though deep down he knew, he had her all along.

The End


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